


Psychology goes great with coffee.

by silver_moon_howler



Series: Domestic Gotham because Why Not? [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Arkham Asylum is Terrible, Bruce Wayne is So Done, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Community College, Domestic Gotham, F/F, It Sucks, Minor Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Only in Gotham, Psychiatrist Harleen Quinzel, Returning stolen treasure, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26080078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_moon_howler/pseuds/silver_moon_howler
Summary: Harley Quinn sees a college girl struggling with her psychology text books after heist. She has enough time to help a poor college student before Batman arrives.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Series: Domestic Gotham because Why Not? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893412
Comments: 4
Kudos: 175





	Psychology goes great with coffee.

Vanessa clicked her pen, the noise was deafening in the near cafe. Her finger worried the button, until the noise became a repetitive rhythm. The woman across from her-an aging nurse from the look of her scrubs-cleared her throat. Vanessa smiled sheepishly, dipping her head deeper into dizzying text books.   
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered, pounding the meat of her palm into her temples. “Think,” she told herself, willing the words to stop fidgeting on the page. She considered emailing her teachers assistant, begging for help. Trading whatever, anything just for an explanation or elaboration of the professor's notes. She had resolved to pack up her notes and leave when the front door slammed open. 

In the doorway a towering Harley Quinn stood, no taller than Vanessa’s shoulder. Dominating the room simply by the pinkest raincoat Vanessa had ever seen, and the screaming racoon she held by the scruff of her neck. Behind her trailed a male goon, his clown shoes dragging along the floor of the cafe.   
“Hold this Louie,” Harley instructed, handing off the racoon to the poor man. He shrieked, cradling the racoons in rough hands before toddling out of the cafe to a scraped up sports car outside. “Can’t find good help,” Harley told the room, overjoyed to see all of them nod along in abject horror. 

“What’s the maximum amount of espresso shots you can give a lady?” She asked, filing the end of her nails. The cashier stammered out a rough number asking Harley what drink she’d like, “I don’t know, do you serve pumpkin spice lattes right now?” The cashier pursed his lips, shaking his head apologetically. “Oh well,” she shrugged, throwing the file behind her shoulder. It hit a personal table where a gruff looking man with an economic book on his lap was sitting. “I’ll have a vanilla latte, hot. Heavy on the vanilla-as many espresso pumps you can give me...do you do sprinkles.” The man-who had seemed to be even more frightened by the order itself-nodded mutely, “One vanilla latte with twenty five vanilla pumps, thirty five espresso shots...am I right.” Harley shrugged, “I’ll love it anyways, I just needed a caffeine stop.” She pulled out a diamond from her pocket, “Take a picture and send it to your girl, they’ll come take the diamond back by the end of the day. I however, legally obtained this money from fountain fishing. She dropped a large jar of quarters on the counter that she had pulled out of her bedazzled purse. 

The counter worker stuttered, trying to shove the diamond back into Harley’s hands.   
“The jar probably has around thirty dollars in it.” The boys bugged out of his eyes and his splutters continued, louder this time. “It’s no skin off my back,” Harley assured him, “I’ve got something better.” She lifted an emerald from her purse, “Supposedly this beauty has the power to revitalise the jungle’s soul. I got this as a wedding gift for my gal, our honeymoon is going to be intense.” She slapped a credit card on the counter to pay for her drink, brought out two more after the first one declined. And then walked over to the chair across from Vanessa to wait for her drink. 

“I noticed you’re reading Bandura,” Harley observed. Her accent had largely disappeared, lowering to a respectful murmur. Vanessa blushed, “Oh yeah, uhm. I’m at Gotham U from Pennsylvania to study psychology.” Harley nodded sympathetically, “Oh yeah, Penn’s a shit hole of colleges.” Vanessa winced, “They’re not all-”   
“It’s okay honey, here aunty Harley’s going to help you.” She looked up at the clock, “I’ve got about an hour before batsie guess I’m here. How’re you with one on one studying?” Vanessa nodded frantically, “Oh my god-I-thank you.” 

\-----------

“And I’m sure you know that Freud was a wack job.” Vanessa shook her head empathetically, “He was a pioneer in his field and didn’t have many previous philosophers to base his work off of. He created a basis of human thought for years to come and posited an iconic complex that almost everyone knows even now.” Harley shrugged, pulling her gum from her mouth and sticking it to the side of her empty cup. “He’s a white male, obsessed with parents, he’s a creep. Right Bats?” Vanessa startled, whirling around to face Batman in broad daylight, shuffling awkwardly. “Ms. Quinnzel, we’ve talked about psychoanalyzing me in public.” Harley shrugged collecting her things, “Anyone who has that many children around them and isn’t a pedophile has serious parent issues.” She offered her fan to Batman, smiling brightly, “Would you like to take this outside to lower property damage. I just guzzled half a cup of espresso and ‘m talking to God herself!” The mask’s brow seemed to rise, totally a disappointed dad look Vanessa agreed. 

“Or I could just arrest you in here without making a scene and return the diamonds by this afternoon.” Harley seemed to brighten, “That sounds like fun, B. But I’ve got my wedding to go too, and Ive’ wouldn’t like it if she has to break me out. She’d go bridezilla.” Batman’’s frown deepened if possible, he was practically glaring a hole in Harley’s head. Probably wishing he had laser vision in that moment, “Is that so,” he asked curtly.   
“Besides, we’re just returning an artifact back to its original home.”   
“The other diamond,” Batman asked. “I gave it to a reliable holder who will return the trinket later.” The barista raised his hand, tossing the diamond at Batman, who pocketed the extra diamond with a long suffering sigh. He tilted his head as if listening to someone speak, “We’ll discuss this further outside,” he choked out. Harley brightened,   
“That’s the spirit, B.” 

Later that night Vanessa would see reports on the news of Harley Quinn’s great escape later this afternoon. Her instagram updated with a picture of her and Poison Ivy sitting in an undisclosed rainforest, wearing two simple iron bands on their fingers.   
“Batman has made it clear that while he knows where Mrs. Quinnzel and Mrs. Isley. It’s, “Too far out of his jurisdiction.” Vanessa shut the TV off the night, comfortable knowing that he was lying.

**Author's Note:**

> Sene in your prompts and I will write them. Please I have no life, or send feedback. It feeds me.


End file.
